


A Magical Morning

by Musyc



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Regency, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Established Relationship, F/M, Family Fluff, Malfoy Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-16 23:13:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13064187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Musyc/pseuds/Musyc
Summary: Regency-era AU. Christmas morning brings an unexpected turn of events for everyone in the Malfoy family.





	A Magical Morning

Hermione woke, warm and comfortable under a thick quilt. She hummed and stretched languidly. Her hands emerged from beneath her covers and she immediately yanked them back under with a shiver. The air in the bedroom was chilly. She glanced at the hearth, made a face, and burrowed into the quilt. "Draco," she said, wriggling her fingers through the bedcovers to poke her husband in the side. "Draco, the fire's gone out."

"I thought things were going rather well between us," Draco muttered into his pillow. He lifted his head, long hair a messy curtain over his face. "Or is that not what you meant?"

Hermione snorted. Automatically, she pushed his hair back and kissed the tip of his nose. "That fire is still doing particularly well, thank you. I refer to the actual fire. The one that has flames and coals and ash."

"Oh, that fire." Draco winked at her.

"Yes, that fire." Hermione pressed both her hands to Draco's jaw, grinning when he gave an overdramatic shiver. "Be a good man and relight it for me, would you?"

Draco growled and snatched her into his arms, rolling them over into the blankets. He smiled down at her. "I think I would prefer to stay in this nice warm bed with a very nice warm wife." Bending his head, he nuzzled beneath her chin to pepper kisses along her neck. "Besides," he murmured between nips at her throat, "I seem to recall there was a reason we decided not to put the all-night charms on the fire when we went to bed. What was--"

"Mummy! Papa! He came!" Scorpius charged into the room, giving the fireplace a wide berth, and scrambled up onto the bed. He bounced across the mattress and flopped over Draco's back. "He came, after all this time!"

"Ah, there's the reason," Draco said dryly. 

Hermione stifled a giggle and kissed his forehead. "Good morning, Scorpius," she said over Draco's shoulder. 

"Later," Draco whispered to her. He gently pushed Scorpius off him and sat up.

Scorpius settled cross-legged on the bed. He gave Hermione a wide grin, showing the missing tooth at one side of his smile. "He came, Mummy! Can I go wake up Aurora?"

"May I," Hermione said instinctively. Her tutoring skills, no matter how far in the past, were never dormant.

Scorpius didn't even blink. "May I go wake up Aurora?"

Draco scraped his hair into a low queue at his nape, a snap of his fingers tying a thin black ribbon to hold it all in place. "First things first, young man," he said. "Who came? Your grandfather?"

Scorpius shook his head wildly. "No-o-o-o," he singsonged. "Nicholas!"

Hermione blinked in confusion and looked to Draco. "Who is Nicholas?" she asked quietly.

"Father Nicholas!" Scorpius bounced in place. "May I get Aurora, please? She needs to see this!"

"Yes," Draco said with a soft sigh. "You may wake her. But remember not to--"

"Let her try to walk on her own and only help her if she's struggling. Don't take the stairs without one of you or a house-elf there. I remember." Scorpius scrambled up and hugged Draco tightly before jumping off the bed and rushing out of the room.

Hermione sat up. Combing her fingers through her hair, she watched Draco cast a few warming charms on the chill air of the bedroom. "Who is Nicholas?" she asked again. 

"One of my mother's fancies," he said. "Something her family used to do. Apparently some mythological wizard crawls through the windows on Christmas Eve, puts up greenery, and leaves gift and sweets behind. Obviously, the adults in the household do all the work, but the children don't learn that until much later. My father never approved of the tradition, so my mother never had a chance to put it into practice for me. She thought her opportunity had come with Scorpius."

Draco lifted his dressing gown from a chair by the window, cast another warming charm on it, and tugged it on. Wrapping the sash tight around his waist, he sighed. "But she was disappointed there, as well. Astoria didn't much care for the idea either. She said she didn't want strange men wandering the house at night. Of course, we all know _that_ for a blatant lie. What she didn't want was men who weren't there for her."

Hermione ignored the bitterness in Draco's voice. She remembered everything Draco had told her about Astoria's adultery, mental illness, and death, and Hermione believed Draco had the right to be bitter. When he turned to fiddle with the iron pokers at the fireplace, she felt a small twist of sympathy in her heart. No matter what Astoria had done, Draco had loved her once, and Hermione knew he had the right to more than bitterness. He had pain very few people had ever seen. 

The room had warmed, and she was glad of it, because it kept her from shivering when she rose from the bed and crossed the room to wrap both arms around Draco. She laid her head on his chest over his heart and embraced him tightly. She didn't speak; she only held him. As much he could appear to be a cold, stoic man to those who didn't know him, she knew him. She knew him intimately, more than any other, and she knew the depths of his emotions and his love, even if he had difficulty showing it. Showing him love in return had been crucial to her in the three years they had been married, especially as their marriage had not started in love at all. They had grown together in love and in trust over months of effort and tentative understandings.

After a few moments, she felt Draco shift. He pressed a kiss into her hair, took a deep breath, and straightened up. "Right," he said. "Rather enough of that. Shall we dress, fetch our children, and see what on earth Scorpius is babbling about?"

She smiled up at him. "Our children," she said. "I never get tired of hearing those words."

* * *

Hermione curled her fingers around a cup of heated chocolate and desperately fought with herself not to giggle at Draco's still-stunned expression. The library, where they as a family spent most of their time together, had been unremarkable when she and Draco had gone to bed the night before. When they walked in with Scorpius and Aurora that morning, Draco had been hard-pressed not to swear in front of the children. 

Hermione admitted to herself that she had very nearly let out a startled profanity of her own. 

Every bookcase, every shelf, had a bough of greenery attached to it. All of the windows were coated in elaborate frost decorations and encircled with more greenery, the mantle and the molding at the tops of the walls had been somehow been charmed to have unmelting icicles dangling along their lengths, and the ceiling itself was a riot of snow and sparkling stars. To top it all off, in the center of the room was a tree that nearly brushed the ceiling, its expansive branches decorated with more snow and icicles, and a riot of - Hermione had tested them with a quick charm - candles with flames glowing in red, green, silver, and gold.

The children, of course, saw nothing untoward about the changes to the library. Scorpius, chattering away about Father Nicholas, had charged into the room, danced around the massive tree pointing at the piles of brightly-wrapped packages beneath it, and ran back to take Aurora's little hand and lead her gently to a pair of small embroidered stools near Draco's favorite chair.

Though clearly impatient, Scorpius had managed to acquiesce to his father's insistence on a stimulating cup of tea. Now, as Draco set the cup aside, Scorpius perked up. Aurora, copying her brother, straightened up as well and gave her parents a big, gummy smile. Her little feet kicked the air beneath her stool.

With a teasing glance at Hermione, Draco stretched both arms well over his head, then pretended he was reaching for the bell pull. At Scorpius' stifled moan, Draco laughed. "All right, son," he said. "What do we have under the tree?"

Scorpius gave a cheer and leapt from his stool. He leaned over the packages, reading the small pasteboard cards attached to each one. "This is for Aurora," he said with a quick look to Hermione. "She should open hers first because she's the youngest."

Hermione thought that Scorpius was trying to make up for his earlier interruption than really focusing on consideration for his sister, but she decided not to comment. In the time she'd been married to Draco, she'd learned that sometimes a selfish motive still resulted in a positive outcome. Their unexpected marriage, originally based on Narcissa's desire to avoid scandal and Draco's need for a wife and mother to Scorpius, certainly spoke to that. 

Hermione nodded and smiled at him. "Very good, Scorpius," she said. "Why don't you help her with it?"

Grinning, Scorpius sat on the floor beside Aurora and placed the small square package on her lap. He carefully undid the ribbon holding the bright paper in place, and guided her tiny fingers to shoving the paper away. "It's a book," he said, peering at it upside down. "About … a little girl and a unicorn? Looks like it's mostly pictures, but there's some words."

"Appropriate," Draco said. "As she can hardly read at her age. Perhaps you can teach her what the words in it are."

"I could be her tutor! Like you were for me at first, Mummy," he said. 

Hermione's smile softened, her heart nearly as warm as her hands where she cradled her chocolate. "Exactly," she said. "Never too young to start learning to read. And if your quick learning is anything to judge by, she'll be reading in no time at all."

The next hour went by quickly. Scorpius 'helped' Aurora open a dozen more presents as well as his own. By the end of it all, there were torn papers and ribbons scattered across the room, helped along by Shadow, the no-longer kitten Scorpius had rescued, and Smoke, a second cat Draco had brought home from London one afternoon. The two children were both surrounded by their gifts. In addition to books, they each had two new sets of fashionable clothing and several toys apiece. Aurora seemed thrilled with the stuffed hippogriff large enough to straddle and ride about the room.

Scorpius seemed less certain about his largest gift, a polished broomstick with sleek, dark bristles, and golden footpegs. Hermione hid her mouth with one hand as she sank her teeth into her bottom lip, telling herself not to look concerned or wary. Scorpius had learned magic, despite the early fears that he might be a Squib, but there were still many things about wizarding society and abilities that made him anxious. She suspected flying would be one of those things.

She exchanged a look with Draco, who appeared to have similar concerns. The fine lines around his eyes had deepened and his jaw was tense. "It's … lovely," Hermione said without looking away from Draco. "A fine gift for a boy your age. And it looks to be just your size."

"Yes," Draco said, with far too hesitant a drawl in his voice. Hermione lifted her hand to her cheek and grimaced at him behind it. Draco cleared his throat and gave a big smile. "A fine gift. I had one much like it at your age. It was from my father."

"You don't have to ride it right away," Hermione said. She shook out the folds of her gown and crossed to kneel beside Scorpius. She put one hand on his shoulder, once again reminded of just how much he resembled Draco. Even their attempts at hiding their emotions left identical expressions on their faces - narrow furrows between their brows, thinned lips, a flush on their throats, ducked heads and tight shoulders. Gently, she pushed a piece of Scorpius' hair behind his ear. "If you're not ready to try it out, you don't have to," she said softly. "We can set it aside and let you think about it for a while longer. There is no rush whatsoever, Scorpius."

Scorpius drew his hands along the shaft of the broomstick where it rested on his knees. "Papa flies," he said without raising his head. "And I've read in the papers that your friend Mr Potter flies. And, um, and. And if I learned how to fly I wouldn't have to use Floos very much, right? Because-because." He looked up at Hermione, his eyes bright with unshed tears. "Because I _really_ don't like the Floo, Mummy, and I'd learn to fly a million times over that."

Hermione's heart nearly broke at the fear in Scorpius' voice. She could only imagine how terrifying the Floo had to be for him. Though he had made great strides in the previous three years, he was still only able to be in the same room as a fire if the hearth was well-charmed and guarded by an iron grate. Physically stepping _into_ flames had to be more than he could bear.

She wrapped him in a hug. "Oh, angel," she murmured into his fine blond hair. "There is no need to fret. If you want to learn to fly on a broomstick, that's perfectly all right. If you don't, that's fine. If you never step into a Floo, that's also fine! No matter what you choose, we'll support you with it and help you with it. What do we always tell you, your father and I? We'll be proud of you, however you excell."

She felt a small hand on her upper arm and looked up to see Aurora standing beside them. Aurora wriggled her arms between them and hugged Scorpius tight. "Bih budder," she said, her toddler pronunciations still missing some letters. "Budder essell."

Scorpius gave a small, choking laugh and wiped his eyes on his sleeve. "Big brother excells," he said to Aurora. "I can't do otherwise with you around, can I? Have to be a good example."

She smiled up at him, her dark eyes shining with admiration, then she took his hand and tugged him off the stool. Hermione sat back, holding Scorpius' broomstick, as Aurora pulled Scorpius over to the hippogriff toy. At his sister's urging, Scorpius straddled the toy and held her side-saddle in front of him. Aurora cheered and they started to ride slowly around the library.

Hermione set the broomstick down and moved to perch on the arm of Draco's chair. He slipped one arm around her waist, leaning his head on her shoulder. "Thank god I have you," he muttered. "I didn't have the slightest inkling of what to say to him, other than 'fly only if you want'. That hardly seems adequate."

"More than adequate, actually. He's progressed so far since I first met him, but he still needs to know that you approve of him and his choices. Especially when it comes to wizarding society. He's a remarkably sensitive boy, wildly intelligent, and he knows that he's at a disadvantage when magic is involved." Hermione watched the children playing, her fingers idly toying with the tips of Draco's long blond hair. "So long as he knows that you are proud of him and that you are there for him, he'll continue to make great strides."

"That's all I ever wanted for him," Draco said quietly. "That he excels at whatever he does. Even … even when I thought he would be relegated to the Muggle world, with nothing I could do for him, with no possible way for me to know how to help him, I wanted him to be at his best."

Hermione slid off the arm of the chair into Draco's lap. She wrapped both arms around him and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I know it's difficult for you," she said. "But when you tell him - tell all of us - that you love us and that you are proud of us, we are already at our best."

Draco gave a soft sigh. He pulled her tight to him and tilted his head, capturing her mouth for a long kiss. A very long, very strong kiss. Hermione felt her heart racing and felt the stirring of Draco's body under her thigh. She slipped her fingers beneath his collar, brazenly parting her mouth to let the tip of her tongue brush his lip.

Draco jumped. His hand tightened on her hip and he--

"Mummy!"

They jerked apart at Scorpius' shout. "Mummy! Papa!" Scorpius, bouncing by the library door where Sadie stood with a note in her small hand, shrieked with delight. Little Aurora, despite being too small to have any concept of why Scorpius was so excited, bounced and shrieked with him. "Grandmum's invited us for Christmas goose! Grandpa says he wants us there special. Are we going? Can we, can we?!"

"May we," Hermione said automatically. She smiled at Draco and kissed his temple. "Later," she whispered with the same rueful tone of his early morning promise.

Draco patted her bottom as she rose from his lap. She hoped the children failed to notice, and hopefully failed to comprehend, the gesture and the flaming blush on her cheeks. "Yes, we'll go to see them. Upstairs, quickly. Why don't you have Sadie help you with your new outfits? Grandmum and Grandpa will want to see them."

The children cheered and, each taking one of Sadie's hands, rushed out of the room.

* * *

The children, both stuffed as full as the goose they'd eaten, were exhausted from the excitement of seeing their grandparents and explaining all the wonderful gifts that Father Nicholas had brought them. They had fallen asleep curled up together in an thickly upholstered settee. Hermione settled a heavy blanket over them and smoothed their hair before joining the other three adults closer to the fire.

"Mum," Draco said as Hermione took her place beside him, "We appreciate all the gifts, don't think for a moment that we don't, but it wasn't necessary for you to sneak them into the house. You could have brought them over this morning and the children would have loved it all just as much."

Narcissa tilted her head and lifted an elegant brow. "To what are you referring, Draco?"

"All the gifts," Hermione said as she accepted a cup of tea from a house-elf. "How did you get them all into the house in the first place? I would have thought that the servants would have insisted on Draco knowing beforehand."

"Hermione, my dear, I haven't the faintest idea of what you mean." Narcissa's already impeccable posture seemed to straighten even further. She met Hermione's eyes with clear confusion in the set of her features. "What gifts?"

Hermione and Draco exchanged a glance before, as one, they looked at Lucius.

Lucius, at a nudge from Narcissa's elbow, looked up from flames of the candles on the table in the middle of their circle. "Presents," he said slowly, his voice like carriage wheels over gravel roads. The potions he took helped keep his mind clear from the dragon pox he had suffered for years, but they affected him in a great many ways, including a roughened voice, difficulty with balance, an obsessive focus on light and movement. Hermione thought that every last negative result of his potion regime was well worth it for the one postive result - Lucius had his mind back.

Lucius sat back against an overstuffed cushion and took a deep breath, his fingers twitching on the arms of his chair. "Presents," he said again. "For the children. Father Nicholas." He turned to Narcissa, his pale grey eyes shining bright with joy. His mouth curled in a fond smile. "You remember, Cissa? I remembered."

Narcissa covered her mouth and shut her eyes. Her shoulders shook briefly. When she opened her eyes, they were shimmering wet, but she reached over to take Lucius' hand. "Father Nicholas," she echoed. "I do remember. But, my darling, I had never thought-- That is to say, you were always against--"

Lucius pursed his lips. "Don't know why," he said. "Can't remember that. But seemed like an excellent idea now. Happy family." He looked at Hermione and Draco, then turned his gaze on the sleeping children. "Nothing more important than my family. Hearing children laugh.... It's better than any potion. Makes me feel whole again."

His short laugh sounded like rocks tumbling over slate to Hermione, but from the look of joy on Narcissa's face, it was the equivalent of angelic harps to her. Narcissa leaned over and rested her forehead against Lucius' temple. "However did you manage to talk their servants into letting you deliver the gifts?" she asked.

Lucius chuckled again. "Didn't. Did it m'self. Still got a few tricks up my wizardly sleeves."

Draco shook his head slowly. "I am not going to ask. I'm rather certain I don't truly want to know."

"Best to take the gifts as they are given," Hermione said, settling one hand on Draco's knee. She smiled at Lucius, amazed at the transformation in his stern face when he laughed. He had changed so much since she had come into the Malfoy's lives. They all had. "No matter how they arrive."

"Father Nicholas will bring a big gift next year," said a small, sleepy voice from behind them. Scorpius approached, gave a searching, wary look to the iron grate over the fireplace, then climbed up onto the settee beside Narcissa. "For me, and for Aurora, and for our sister."

Draco stifled a choking noise beside her; Hermione blinked rapidly. "Scorpius? What on earth--"

He laid his head against Narcissa's arm and slowly closed his eyes. "Sister," he said again, his words half-swallowed by a deep yawn. "She'll be here. Gift for everyone."

"Hermione, are you--" Narcissa made a fluttering gesture of confusion.

Hermione shook her head. "No. At least, not yet. But he's never wrong." She held one hand over her suddenly racing heart and squeezed Draco's fingers with the other. "Our little Seer is never wrong. Therefore I must assume I will be. Soon enough."

Draco settled his arm around her and drew her in close, resting his head against hers. He didn't need to speak for Hermione to understand the depth of his emotions at that moment. She was feeling them all as well. She tipped her head to press a soft kiss to his jaw, putting all of her love for him into the touch of her lips. 

Draco took a deep, shuddering breath and cleared his throat roughly. "Exactly how I feel," he whispered to her, then glanced at his father. "Don't suppose 'Father Nicholas' would have a few tricks up his sleeves that involve expanding nurseries?"

Lucius grinned. "Do you know, I do believe he might."

**Author's Note:**

> Basically all of the 'traditional' Christmas celebrations that we do these days - presents, trees, decorations, etc. - didn't exist in the regency period. But who am I to let historical accuracy stand in the way of a lot of fun? XD Once I got the idea to revisit [_A Muggle-born Magic_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/21214), I couldn't let some of the images go, even if they were seriously anachronistic. We'll pretend wizards were way ahead of the times for once.
> 
> Many thanks to my nominators, and extra many thanks to my co-moderator, who is one of the best for running a fest with. I look forward to the D/Hr Advent every year and am so grateful that I can write for it. ♥


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